


Shifting Lines

by Southernsassafrastea



Series: V: Follow My Feet [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 00:11:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southernsassafrastea/pseuds/Southernsassafrastea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the Follow My Feet Verse. Five years after settling in Ferelden, Aveline and Anders discuss a rather sensitive topic and make a decision that shifts the line of their relationship.  (i.e. Shameless smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting Lines

      Her knees were shaking. Damn the mage for doing this to her. It should have been a simple thing. It was a simple thing. She wanted another child. Dawn was nearly five, and Aveline desperately wanted her to have the type of stories Hawke told her about. Siblings growing up together. Family was important and Maker knew she wanted another babe to hold.

Anders had been agreeable. Fatherhood set well on him and… and nothing he was an excellent father. They’d discussed adopting, but feared scrutiny with a world still recovering from the mage templar war. Scrutiny wasn’t something welcomed in the home they’d built.

“Why not you?” The words had been spoken in a half jest. “You’re not terrible to look at and even if the child was a mage, the circles are gone now. They’d be free.”   

He’d been carefully drawing plants in his journal, detailing the recipes for poultices and the like for the clinic that hopefully they’d have as a reality in the next year. The charcoal broke in his hand, black covering his palms and ruining the page he was working on.

“You’d lay with an apo… with me? You want a child of _my_ blood?”

She’d been joking, though now that the idea was spoken, the seed took root. It really was the best possible way to go about it. Aveline wasn’t going to sleep with a stranger and Anders, she trust him.

“Why not, I’m more concerned about a child having your nose than your magic.”

“I—well with a proposition like that Aveline how could I say no.”  

Of course it was never that simple. The grey warden taint made him all but sterile. The medicine and magic he wove to counter the effects meant if they were going to do this it would have to be the optimal time to even have a hope of conceiving.

And the first two times they tried she balked out before he’d even gotten his shoes off.

 **Aveline was determined.** They were going to do this. They were going to do this. She was going to throw up, the red head was sure of it. Bare feet slapped against hardwood, she’d pulled on the longest gown she owned and forwent the smalls.

She could do this.

                        They could do this.

Anders was reading in bed or attempting to. In truth he felt he didn’t deserve a child of his blood. What legacy could he leave? He was a Warden. He was considered a pariah by most of society. Who would want to saddle a child with that? Thoughts swirled in his mind, each darker than the last. They couldn’t do this. It would be better for her to find some village gent and… the thoughts stopped and he glanced down. His hands had gone knuckle white in the spine of his book.

No, no it was better this way. He wouldn’t ask Aveline to sleep with a stranger.

He glanced up when she entered the room, brown eyes taking in the straps of her night gown and the way it hung shapeless to her feet. She was smaller here. That was a lie of course, she’d always been this size he supposed, but the absence of plate mail showed curves instead of box profile she’d had in Kirkwall.  

“Should I strip?” his brow rose, wondering if she’d make it across the room this time before turning and fleeing.

Her teeth were starting to chatter. Aveline pressed her lips together, angry at the way she was reacting. Void’s sake she’d fought ogre’s and hid in a cave with two Grey Wardens fighting the Calling. She’d been guard Captain for eight years in Kirkwall. Coupling should have been as easy as an afternoon nap.

Bare feet strode forward, cotton sliding around her calves before she hitched it up to her knees to straddle his lap. Hands that had belonged to a soldier and now a farmer pressed into his shoulders, urging him back against the mattress.

“Don’t help, you’ll just mess me up.” Words spoken against the corner of his mouth before teeth nipped his jaw.  

Andraste’s flaming ass. Anders lifted his hands, stopping himself before touching the hips she ground against him and forcing them flat on the mattress. Before that fateful conversation, he’d never thought about Aveline as a lover. Fearing rightfully that she’d somehow read his mind and belt him and… it was Aveline-the Aveline.

She was attractive in her rough Ferelden way. He couldn’t deny that, red hair and freckles that mapped out like the stars. Seeing her out of armor, showed femininity she’d hidden like a secret. Splayed hips and a high rounded chest.  Long fingered hands and scars across her body that spoke of a life spent fighting. 

He was forced back to the present by those fingers rucking up his shirt and blunt nail scrapping over his nipple. Breath hissed and he made a move to grab her hands.

“Wait” he shifted to sit up, painfully aware of how long it had been since he’d been with anyone. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right.”

Her hand was shaking in his. It had his brows furrowing. Nerves were one thing, outright panic was quite another. She was deliberately looking over his shoulder, red infusing her skin so that freckles were all but obscured with it.  More than attractive, she was beautiful. Did she not see it? Was that why she acted like this?

“Look at me Sweetheart.”

Green eyes startled before she frowned. “What did you just call me?”

“Sweet,” Maker she was going to kill him and it was going to be worth it. “I called you sweet.”    

“Moody mage I swear-” the rest of her words were muffled by his lips. It was a soft kiss; much softer than the nips and rough scrape of teeth she’d made down his neck.  Those had been, well there was a reason he was slowing them down before this ended with his clothes still on.

“Sweet,” he started again, pulling away and reaching up to touch her cheeks. “soft… just here.” The hands moved lower smoothing cotton over her chest. “strong…” lower his hands smoothed across her stomach and the trembling muscles of her thighs.

Down until cotton gave way to heated flesh than back up again, taking the fabric with him as fingers pressed into the taunt skin of her back. His lips parted realizing she was completely naked under the cloth. Mentally repeating to go slow, Anders kissed her again, enjoying the small pants and hitched breaths as she arched under his touch.

By the Void, had it been so long she’d forgotten what it was like to be loved. Aveline could feel herself sinking, water twirling above her head as he brought her deeper down. She kissed him, following his soft lead and letting lips gently press his.

Anders had sharp cheekbones. She knew know it was his Anderfel heritage. She smiled against them gently, slowly, feeling the angles with the softest of brushes. When she tugged at his shirt again, he let her pulling up the fabric and wiggling so that it was over his head and off tossed to the far side of the room.

He’d filled out in these years of peace. Ribs covered by muscles and skin that was marred by the line above his heart. He’d told her the story of the wound. She sighed, shifting down to kiss the jagged line. So many hardships, so many close calls that would have separated them before ever meeting. It had an emotion close to spilling out her lips, a confession that was neither asked for nor wanted. Aveline ruthlessly pushed it down and continued to map his chest with parted lips.

Donnic was an idiot. The thought came unbidden as she rocked against him, those small movements making his resolve to enjoy and draw this out shake. Aveline was a whirlwind and once she slowed down a damn good lover.

“Sweetheart, lift your arms up.”

Wordlessly she obeyed, for once not frowning at the endearment. He groaned as he tugged the nightdress up, any suspicion about her being naked underneath put to rest. She was gloriously nude and Maker’s sake those freckles were everywhere.

Hands fell to her hips, tugging her flush against him, before he rolled  laying her gently back on the mattress as if she was made of spun sugar instead of hardened warrior.

“Andraste preserve me.” Anders grunted the prayer, his hand and mouth taking a journey across the skin spread out under him. Lips traced her shoulders, admiring the slope and jut of bone that marked the start of her arms. Gently, reverently he touched the ripples of flesh, that poorly healed scar from the Bone Pit Dragon. She’d been an idiot to refuse healing. Still he paid homage to it before moving lower.

Teasingly he circled the peaks of her chest. Darting his fingers to stroke at that edge of pinkening before retreating, lips curving into a near smirk at her groans. “Sweet,” he said again giving in and pressing his mouth to one peak while fingers plucked at the other.

“Anders” Aveline moaned it, his name vibrating up her throat to reverberating against parted lips. She was on fire. Every nerve ending plucked and tuned, a willing instrument to his hands.  There was a coiling in her stomach, a tightening that he was working her to.  

He took pity on her, though he could have lingered where he was for the rest of the night, just listening to different sounds and watching the changes to her pale skin. Goosebumps to blush, flush, and back again as her body rocked against his.

Hips pressed up as his hand circled closer. Her hair was even red here, soft curls and damp that made his control a shaky thing as the heat of her pressed against the pads of his fingers. There was a devilish thought taking hold. What would be like to see this strong woman completely lost? Firmly he pressed against that pulsing nub until she was shaking and legs trembling. She was so close and he could feel it building against his hand.

   He shifted, keeping his thumb on that pressure point before stroking lower with a single finger. A press into wet and a come hither gesture.

**\------She flew.**

Maker it was a sight to see. Aveline’s whose voice carried so well with authority strangled and gasping his name as she pulsed and shook. Those muscles that made a warrior out of her completely lax and trembling. She wasn’t beautiful. She was breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Again”

Her lips parted as he made good on his words, strumming her higher and higher until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe around the tightness of her throat. He was taking her over and Maker help her she was letting him do it.

Spurred by her movements and aching, Anders sat up long enough to undo the laces of his breeches, wiggling his hips to force the leather and smalls down. He wanted to think it was simply because of how long it had been, but the thought held no weight. Not at the sight of Aveline naked against the bed clothes, the room smelling like sweat and sweet arousal.

He sank forward, arms bracing at either side of her head and slide forward in one smooth motion. Their eyes locked, brown seeking green before she drew him down for a kiss. Her lips were chapped. They always were despite the pots of balm he made for her. It made an endearing turn to the moment.

Slow thrusts and moans bit back as she surrounded him. It was like… he didn’t have words for it, couldn’t even begin to articulate how it felt to feel her around his cock.

Air left his lungs as the world shifted and he was flat on his back.

Aveline chuckled despite the tightness curling through her limbs. He’d shaken her, clever fingers and a cleverer mouth pushing her until she sobbed his name. She wasn’t going to let this end without at least returning the favor.

Straddling his hips and sitting up so that the angle of him had her lips parting in a faint oh.  Legs flexed, her hands dropping to his chest as she rode him. Back and forth, hips rocked, legs lifting and falling as his hands dug into the sheets trying to hold back.

It was gratifying to know that she could make him gasp. Satisfying to see Anders grit his teeth and shake his head back and forth as curses spilled out. She was taking him, in a way that had nothing to do with being a soldier or a guard and everything to do with being a woman.

He was going to lose it. Anders knew it and desperately wanted her to fall off the edge with him. He thrust up as she came down, hand that held sheets moving to grip her hips as he pounded up into her, doubling her hard pace and forcing his mind to focus on the tightening feel of her. One more, One more pushing her off the edge and he’d let himself follow.

Aveline screamed, his name tearing from her throat before she put a hand to her mouth to muffle it. It was too much. These feeling, these spasms were too much. She sank forward collapsing in a sweaty mess against him.

Anders stared at the ceiling, one hand idly reaching up to smooth her hair back before pressing a kiss to her forehead. They were just doing this for a child. They weren’t lovers.

And just why did that thought ring hollow.


End file.
